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Illness
A Time Lord shouldn't be separated from his TARDIS. He knew this, it was a fairly simple, fairly straightforward rule that every Time Tot was taught back in the nursery. Time Lord and TARDIS were connected, part of a whole, part of a sum and all that. There were horror stories that Ushas used to tell over nightcom about Time Lords who had been without their ship for long periods of time and went insane, or worse. The "worse" was, of course, described in accurate, gruesome details, much to the 'ooooh'ing and 'aaaahhh'ing of those listening in.
The Doctor just never believed he'd be on the end of that sort of experience.
His ship was a lifetime away. More than that, lifetimes away, and he could feel it. He could feel the lack of a ship in his mind and it ached. More than ached, it was as if a large part of him was missing and he'd only just lost the anesthetics keeping the sensation of missing away.
He had meant to do a good deal today, most of which involved bothering the cook into frying chips and rewriting Reinette's library. These were his main plans, and they were good ones.
As it was, he was curled up on the floor of his bedroom, the shakes and stomachache from the night before having finally decided that his lack of response on the matter was unacceptable. He cried out sharply, a noise that only vaguely sounded human, and may have been a name.
"Reinette!"
A Time Lord shouldn't be separated from his TARDIS. He knew this, it was a fairly simple, fairly straightforward rule that every Time Tot was taught back in the nursery. Time Lord and TARDIS were connected, part of a whole, part of a sum and all that. There were horror stories that Ushas used to tell over nightcom about Time Lords who had been without their ship for long periods of time and went insane, or worse. The "worse" was, of course, described in accurate, gruesome details, much to the 'ooooh'ing and 'aaaahhh'ing of those listening in.
The Doctor just never believed he'd be on the end of that sort of experience.
His ship was a lifetime away. More than that, lifetimes away, and he could feel it. He could feel the lack of a ship in his mind and it ached. More than ached, it was as if a large part of him was missing and he'd only just lost the anesthetics keeping the sensation of missing away.
He had meant to do a good deal today, most of which involved bothering the cook into frying chips and rewriting Reinette's library. These were his main plans, and they were good ones.
As it was, he was curled up on the floor of his bedroom, the shakes and stomachache from the night before having finally decided that his lack of response on the matter was unacceptable. He cried out sharply, a noise that only vaguely sounded human, and may have been a name.
"Reinette!"
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Wordlessly, he pulled himself back and looked up at her. Hair wild, mostly undressed, mussed and beautiful, and she was in his arms. He raised a hand up to touch her cheek, then slid it higher, pressing his fingertips against her temple.
"Can I...?"
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She was accustomed to life all but storming by at a frantic pace that she along dictated. But this, between them? Was slow. It ached, and throbbed. Not just in blood, and muscle, but in softer, less defined places. Dark, and intimate. She did not want to forget what this felt like.
Her head turned sligtly, encouraging his touch. The she lifted his other hand, moisture from her mouth still lingering there. She brought it to her other temple.
And then she kissed the Doctor, her assent deeply tangled there.
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In payment, he opened up his mind wide, as wide as it could go with the walls blocking off a large section of it, and offered her everything. Pains, insecurities, secret adoration that he'd managed to keep silent. The thing he was loathe to call love, but grew so quickly and so strongly, it could only have been that emotion.
His mouth moved as they connected, words in his native tongue that his own mind, completely open, would've translated easily for her, if she desired it.
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The wall was still there, solid, and in Reinette's mind at least she lipped between him, and it as she opened up her own thoughts as well. She might not have the stars as he knew them, but she did have how she had seen them through him. It was unique, a hazy filter of silverly blue draped over them. It teased across exposed, sensitive skin as she offered it freely.
The first wave of his emotion washed over her, and Reinette briefly struggled with it. She tasted each of the achingly familiar words with her mouth, assuring that none were gratitude. Or at the very least, gratitude alone. Fingernails catching at the Doctor's shoulders, she kissed him deeper still.
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You are beautiful. Age, time apart, none of it mattered, because, in the end, she was still Reinette, and he was still the Doctor, and they were too entwined for them to be anything but.
With that, he moved his hips up, sliding slowly, achingly slowly, inside of her. Pleasure arched along his skin, and he gave that to her, as well.
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You are not exactly unkind on the eyes yourself.
Her eyes, or anyone else's, Reinette thought not for the first time. Including rather insipid blonds in the possession of fans. She shifted her hips then, sharply, allowing him deeper entry.
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His lips twitched against hers into a smirk. He could feel the jealousy she had towards the blonde with the fan, and it was flattering. The blonde would never be the blonde in his arms at that moment, and, therefore, she was nothing to him. There were few he'd open his hearts to, and they needed to be special. Very, very special.
I do my best not to terrify.
He broke their kiss, only to taste her throat, trying to recapture that spot that caused her to cry out before.
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Her thoughts were reserved for the Doctor, dancing around and over his own in their own caress.
Oh," Reinette laughed, the sound throaty and thick with passion. She could taste where his teeth had marked her lip. I do not know. I rather think you do all right.
His mouth found its way to where throat slipped down into shoulder, and Reinette gasped.
Her hips curled deeply again, as she turned them both so that her palms were flat in the valley of his shoulders, a feline in full pounce.
She recalled a certain conversation, shared playfully on their way to Louis' ball.
Growl for me<.i>
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The growl formed in his throat before he even thought to hold it off to tease further. His lips rumbled against her throat, and he thrust sharply and deeply within her.
A sentiment I think we should share.
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A broken moan unmasked itself as her teeth caught his shoulder as Reinette sought some sort of anchor.
I think you are determined to get the last word...
Her tongue traveled over the mark on his shoulder.
By taking away my own...
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Well, you know how much I enjoy the last word.
Companion. Friend. Ally. Reinette had so many titles in his mind already, adding 'Lover' to that mix seemed easy, even redundant. They had been lovers before, perhaps only once physically, but mentally? They had connected in ways more intimate many, many times before.
His tongue slid up her sternum, then back down, tracing her breasts, adding the sensation and the taste to his memories.
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Perhaps for the simple reason is that once the Doctor took up days, rather than hours in her life? She saw little else. It was not a choice that Reinette once regretted. Not for all the questions. Not for Louis' demands.
And that way it could have remained. She was fully prepared for as much. But something had shifted, and now there could be no mistaking the flush that traveled across skin that had been abandoned from touch. A moan, a hiss of breath so distanced from herself Reinette did not recognize her own voice.
His name tumbled free too, at the feel of his mouth on her breast.
The last word then...what else though? What else do you enjoy?
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Long walks in the park, stargazing, candlelight---
She shifted her hips, and that train of thought was replaced with some incoherant babbling about how he enjoyed this.
She had that way about her, the slight movement, or a turn of hand or phrase that would correct him. Put him where he belonged when he tried to stray, deliberately or unintentionally. It was the reason he adored her. He could not desire a woman who did not know how to stand up to him, for there would be no challenge in that.
And while her human body may have been frailer than his Timelord one, there was no doubt in his mind who was stronger.
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There were a few consonants, several elongated vowels, a moan that made Reinette quite glad they were reclined as her knees went weak, all ending on a rather tempting purr. She cut a trail of tongue and teeth along his chest until her lips settled over and ear, gently tracing its shell.
I enjoy all of that as well.
Inner muscles contacted -- for she was well taught in many things -- pulling him deeper, closer. Brushing against the very start of her pleasure and letting him feel it as well.
Her eyes sparked with stars of a different sort.
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His hands slid from her forehead to wrap around her, pulling her close as they moved together. Their connection didn't break as it would have with another human, only more proof of how very, deeply connected they were. Rather dangerous, that sort of connection.
Is it wrong to say I enjoy you?
He caught her mouth again, kissing her deeply and without hesitation.
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His fingers were close. Then closer. Then something slightly further away. All the while smelling of ink, and earth, and whatever else might have caught his attention that day. It seemed to her vaguely something like cinnamon, all bleeding together with what made him -- him.
I might confess to being devastated if you were not enjoying yourself.
Laughing, Reinette sucked lightly on his tongue from within their kiss, bringing that more more of him inside.
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His thrusts increased in speed, and he pressed his own pleasure, gently, onto her. If he was not enjoying himself, indeed. Every touch, every moan, every movement. She probably did not realize how much she affected him, but that was all right. If he gave everything away at once, well, that wouldn't leave more for later.
He smiled against her mouth.I doubt it would be possible for me not to enjoy myself, Reinette.
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And oh yes, it seemed her toes curled as well.
I used to brush my hair each night by the fireplace, and pretend it was your fingers in my hair.
She arched her hips to meet increased thrust to increased thrust, elongating each journey. Hip to hip, then apart, and then together again.
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She had a lifetime of waiting for him. He had months of watching the door between them, knowing she slept and wishing he knew how to feel his emotions for her. So many things he couldn't share because, as always, he was the Doctor. Too much history with that name, too many memories to sleep a full night, even if he knew it would be in her arms.
The Doctor remembered being afraid of admitting there was something between them. He remembered being afraid of what was between them. He remembered being afraid of losing what was between them, of reducing what he'd come to admit he felt for her to bodies and a bed. It was more than that. Making love to her was more than that.
His hand raised, catching her hair. His fingers tangled in the undone curls, but the sensation of them, the silky, fluid-like sensation of her hair seemed to tingle across the nerves of his fingers.
Had I the way, I'd take away those years of waiting.
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You are worth it.
Not were worth it. Are. Even after the events of the afternoon. Even separated from more than half of what he was, and would be again, the sentiment still held true.
She was breathing his air now, they were that close. It was hot, but it was theirs. And much like the words that had been uttered before, Reinette still imagined that in many ways, they could still belong to her.
After all, there might have only been one Doctor? But there was only one her as well. So the two of them were utterly unique. His kiss, to her mouth. His touch, on her skin. The bed that cradled them instead of the music room of before. It was theirs. And the words? Hers then.
Reinette's hips faltered slightly as a fresh wave of pleasure caught her but did not quite take her away.
You are worth the waiting.
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She must not have been fanciful in the music room before. She must love him. To do everything she did, after everything he had done, it could only have been love.
And, he supposed, considering he had no reason not to say it...
A wave of pleasure coursed up his body, and he realized some of it was hers, too. He doubted that he'd ever had a sexual encounter as intimate as this. As completely connected.
One hand moved from holding her to her front, where he could gently rub and stimulate her most sensitive area.
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She was not a woman that many managed to surprise. Some part of her had been aching for this for years, not just the months they had shared the same roof. How could he possibly have surprised her. Reinette's nails caught his back, encouraging as there was a mona that might of, could have almost, if one listened close enough been his name.
Or possibly another, more intimate, endearment all together.
His fingers continued to do dangerous things, and Reinette felt herself coil tightly.
Are you....so eager to see me done, then?
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She was one who lived on the edge, he supposed. He shouldn't have been surprised to hear something so dangerous come from her before. It was more intimacy, more connection than he'd experienced, ever. Terrifying, and beautiful.
Would you rather I stopped then?
The tone in his mind was teasing, but he had no intention of stopping. Her pleasure, her feeling, everything bled to him, and he could only hope it bled back to her. And knowing she felt as she did, feeling her pleasure was the most arousing and exciting sensation, something he did not want to stop.
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Of course in the next instant her mind turned and please. Please yes. Stop, hesitate. Anything for a few more seconds to remember this. How a moment could feel. How a single second could taste. The cinnamon was back, somewhere.
Stop. Do not. Hesitate hip meeting hip only to move forward again, Deeper, longer. There was no much of him in her but that did not keep Reinette from wanting more.
It was, perhaps, as confused as she had even been. Which was odd because if she was confused about this encounters timely resolution? She was entirely sure of him. That bled between them as well.
All until her body betrayed the argument all together as Reinette cried out, the sound lost in their kiss as she tightened about him.
He had taken aware her words after all.
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She tightened around him, and he could feel her climax shooting through every nerve, every vein. He couldn't tell where hers ended and his began. All he could feel were the shockwaves of pleasure, of intensity, of---
His whimpered into her mouth as he spilled within her, and his arms again clung to her tightly. His entire body was one ball of electric nerves that sang out in a loud and shocking chorus.
In her language, the term was "die a little death", and he truly understood it at that moment.
I'll never forget, he could hear his mind, sounding far calmer than his body was, Every kiss, every glance, all of this. And should you ever fear forgetting, I will share it with you.
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